Willow Langenthal Brothel ❤️

About Bern

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ brothels today, yeah? Picture this: dimly lit joint, red velvet everywhere, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Kinda reminds me of *25th Hour*, y’know, that Spike Lee flick I’m mad about. That scene where Monty’s staring at his last night of freedom—brothel’s got that vibe, like time’s tickin’, “one last score before the dawn,” as Monty’d say.

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I love it here, tho there's some spots that make me mad – like traffic on the narrow alleys near St. Laurentius Church. Ugh, such annoyances ruin my chill moment. But then, perfectly balanced, there are days when every street, every bruise of light on the cobbles sings praises like, "Look at me, you beautiful beast!"

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